


I Quit

by glowystars325



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, pairing only if you squint, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowystars325/pseuds/glowystars325
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is tired of being unwanted and does something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the warnings. This is not a happy fic. Let me know what you think.

You know that feeling you get when you feel like you're unwanted? That sharp stabbing sensation in your heart? Where all you want to do is curl up in a ball and cry until the pain goes away? That's all Stiles has really been able to feel for the past few months - unwanted and hurt.

He could tell that no one in the pack wanted him around. They weren't exactly subtle with it; not inviting him to the pack meetings, ending the meeting if he does show up, ignoring his texts and calls, even acting like he doesn't exist at school. Stiles wasn't stupid, he knew that his dad was lying half the time when he said he was staying late at work. He knew that his dad went to Derek's rebuilt house - the one that conveniently had a room for everyone but him. He understood that he wasn't welcome anymore, but that didn't make it hurt any less. After the Nogitsune, everyone started to abandon him when he needed them the most.

No one gave a rat's ass about the teen when he started eating less and less; Stiles started to lose a lot of weight. No one cared when he showed up to school looking like death warmed over because he couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. They didn't care or even notice when he started cutting. 

Three weeks ago, the first time he ever dragged a blade across his wrist, he was terrified that he would be caught. He was terrified that anyone from the pack would smell the blood or see the fresh cuts on his wrists. He was terrified that they would find out and send him back to the mental hospital. He spent the next two days on edge for a completely different reason, but it was for nothing. They didn't notice. Even if they did, they didn't care. That pushed Stiles a little more. He stopped caring if anyone noticed. He knew they wouldn't.

Stiles became his own worst enemy, and no one was there to save him from himself. He only ate when he felt like he was going to pass out, but never enough. He had to start wearing more layers than normal because of how cold he was. His arms were his own carving board. The scars were piling up on top of each other and his thighs were torn to ribbons almost. He stopped caring. He stopped trying to live. He was done. 

Stiles was making dinner for his father, hoping that he would actually come home and spend time with his son for once. He called his dad and waited for him to answer.

After the fourth ring he heard his father's voice, "What is it Stiles?" Stiles could hear Scott laughing in the background. He felt his heart drop a bit more - yet another meeting he wasn't invited to.

"I was wondering where you were. I made dinner for us and I was hoping that you would come home and spend some time with me," Stiles's voice was soft. He was scared that he was going to be rejected again.

There were several voices in the background and the Sheriff told them to quiet down before he started talking again, "I can't. I'm busy at work. Maybe next time."

Stiles was mad. He knew his dad was lying to him yet again, "I could come down to the station..."

"No. I'm too busy. Just do your homework or something. I'll be home later tonight," John hung up the phone without another word. 

Stiles started to cry as he felt his heart break even more. He hated the fact that he was unwanted and unloved. Stiles put the food away and headed back to his room to cry in privacy - not that it really mattered anyway he was all alone.

He rocked back and forth on the soft carpet, holding his knees, as sobs shook his body.

_Why doesn't anyone care about me anymore? Why don't they want me around anymore? Am I that pathetic and useless? Am I so annoying that my father doesn't even love me anymore? Did anyone ever truly care about me? Does anybody even want me around? Probably not. I'm just a useless, annoying, pathetic, unloved waste of space. I don't deserve to live. I should just kill myself already. No one would miss me. They'd all be happy that I killed my useless self off. ___

__Stiles sobbed even harder. He couldn't take much more of this madness inside him. He needed help. He needed the pack. He needed his father. He needed to be around somebody. He couldn't trust himself to be alone right now._ _

__Stiles calmed himself down, wiped his eyes dry, hopped into the jeep, and headed to the Hale house. He got more nervous the closer he got, but he pressed on. He needed to be near somebody, less he try to end his life._ _

__Stiles turned onto the dirt road leading to the mansion and headed up to the drive way. Sure enough, everyone's cars were there - including the cruiser. Stiles parked and turned his jeep off. He took a deep breath before getting out and walking to the front door._ _

__The nerve-wrecked boy let himself in and followed the sound of laughter. He pushed open the door to the living room and everyone immediately froze._ _

__Lydia had a smirk on her face, Danny looked at him like he was some sort of freak show, Scott and Kira looked shocked, his father looked guilty, Derek glared. Stiles felt his heart drop._ _

__"Why are you here?" John asked after a long awkward moment._ _

__Stiles didn't know what to say. Before he could figure it out Scott spoke up, "Stiles, this is a pack meeting. You aren't exactly pack. Kind of the opposite."_ _

__Stiles staggered, "W-what?"_ _

__Derek sighed. He knew that he would have to be the one to explain it to Stiles even though he never truly agreed with the idea in the first place, "Scott's trying to tell you that no one wants you in the pack. We decided on that months ago, but you still haven't taken the hint. You aren't welcome to any of our meetings. So why are you here?"_ _

__Stiles was completely shattered on the inside. He felt completely defeated. His head hung down and his shoulders slouched and his eyes began to water. With a quivering voice, he asked weakly, "Everyone?"_ _

__"Yes. I'm sorry, but I think it'd be if best you leave," Derek spoke in a soft yet commanding tone._ _

__Stiles nodded and turned to leave. His father spoke up again, "Why did you come here anyway?"_ _

__Stiles shook his head, tears falling from his eyes as he replied, "It doesn't matter anyways anymore. I'm... I'm going to go. Have fun without me here. Sorry that I intruded where I'm obviously not welcome. It won't happen again."_ _

__His father sighed, "Stiles... It's not that it's just...." the older man trailed off as he tried to find the right words. How could he possibly tell his son that they didn't want him in the pack but still cared?_ _

__"It's fine. I-I understand. It was stupid for me to come here," Stiles just wanted to get out of that house so he could cry and cut in the safety of his room._ _

__Scott tried to explain himself, "You do know that you were never really pack right?" _'No I didn't' _, "I'm mean you are only human," _'And my dad isn't?' _, "We decided to cut ties with you after the Nogitsune incident. We don't want to put another pack member at risk. You understand right?"_____ _

______"Got it," Stiles answered quickly. He was close to a complete break down. He refused to have one here in front of people that didn't care about him in the slightest bit, "Bye. Sorry for intruding. I promise that you guys will never be bugged by me again," Stiles walked out of the house, got into the jeep and drove home. He pulled into the driveway and mindlessly walked into the house. He stopped by the gun safe and grabbed a bullet and the pistol and headed to his room._ _ _ _ _ _

______As tears rolled down his face, Stiles began to sort through all of his things. Everything supernatural related went into one pile on his desk. It finally struck him as he looked at the large stack of books, notes, pictures, tools, and a flash drive on how much he did for people that didn't even care about him._ _ _ _ _ _

______The next pile was for Scott, it had his comic books and video games in it along with a few pictures of them together throughout the years. He cried harder when he thought about how he lost his best friend for good._ _ _ _ _ _

______There wasn't much else, he left two things for Derek. A picture he found of his family, and one of him that Stiles took a year ago that he had kept under his pillow._ _ _ _ _ _

______He left everything else for his father to figure out. Stiles took out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote a short note._ _ _ _ _ _

______ I gave you what you wanted. You never have to deal with me again. Don't feel bad (I doubt it though) you won't miss me. It's not like you cared when I showed up to get help.  
Bye, Stiles _ _ _ _ _ _

______ He left the note on his nightstand. And sat down on his bed. Stiles loaded the gun, put it up to his mouth and pulled the trigger. He was finally done suffering. _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

~~~~~ Derek ~~~~~

Sirens blared as police cars and an ambulance barreled down the street towards the Stilinski household. The police department received several frantic calls after the neighbors heard a gunshot ring out like a bell in the dead of night. Deputy Parish was the first officer to arrive, followed by a frantic Sheriff who was called after the department received the first of the calls. A sleek black Camaro wasn't far behind.

Lydia was back at the Hale house, recovering from her latest gruesome vision of death. Derek had followed the Sheriff when the older man received a call asking about the gunshots at his home.

Perish looked at John, "I take it you weren't cleaning a gun? Who all is home?" 

"Just Stiles," a look of horror passed his face and Derek couldn't seem to move fast enough. 

He bolted into the house, frantically calling for Stiles, "Stiles! This isn't funny. Come out! Stiles!" Derek ran into the teen's room and cried out in dismay, "No! Stiles! No! Please don't be dead. You can't be dead."

He desperately tried to revive the dead boy to no avail as the Sheriff caught up to Derek. He felt his heart shatter at the sight of his dead baby boy. He pulled Derek back, "It's no use, he's gone," his voice quivered as tears started to roll down his face. 

Derek cried without shame as it dawned on him that he lost yet another person in his life that he loved. Parish and another deputy came into the room. Parish switched into his professional mood and ordered the other deputy to go and get a body bag.

"Sheriff, did you know that your son was suicidal? Or why he may have done this?" Parish asked.

"No. I didn't. I-I thought he was fine. I didn't know that he would do this," John was stunned. Sure he hasn't been around that often, but Stiles bounced back from everything. 

More people showed up in a blurred fashion and bagged the lifeless body, taking it back downstairs. Somewhere along the line someone said they were going to leave or something. It didn't matter though. The two men remaining in the room were broken and missing a huge chunk of themselves.

Derek looked at the piles on the desk, the smallest one had his name on it. He grabbed the letter that was on top and the two photos laid forgotten. He read Stiles's last words and cried more when he realized that he was yet again the one to blame for a death. Why did he ever let Scott's anger go this far? It wasn't Stiles's fault Allison died. He should've never let the pack agree with Scott's decision to kick Stiles out, the only guy he's ever felt something more than platonically for. He should've never let Stiles leave his house. He handed the note to John and picked up the two photos. One was slightly burnt around the edges but the image was clear as day; it was his family. He didn't think that anything had survived the fire, but Stiles went and proved him wrong again. The other one was a well worn picture of him that smelt strongly of the teen - almost like he slept on it every night.

He couldn't stand himself. He threw away something that could've been amazing and lost the chance at anything completely. He would never again hear Stiles's useless rambling, never again see him smile, never again hear his laugh. Derek couldn't live like that. He couldn't go home to the hope-filled room he created with Stiles and him in mind. He couldn't go through another loss. He jumped out the window and ran to the preserve. 

He collapsed into a clearing and let himself cry. Tears rolled down freely as he mourned the loss of the greatest person he had ever met. 

He picked himself up off the ground shifted to his full wolf form and continued to run. He didn't stop for hours. Eventually he ended up at the coast line. 

Derek shifted back to his human form and sent Peter a text, I can't live without him. I'm sorry. He took a deep breath and walked closer to the edge of a cliff. His phone started buzzing and ringing fiercely - almost as if it was channelling Peter's determination as he tried to get ahold of his nephew. Derek turned his phone off and dropped it to the ground. He backed up a few yards before he sprinted off of the cliff, hoping to God that he wouldn't survive.

The fall was a long 200 foot drop - the only thing passing through his mind was "I'm sorry Stiles" before he crashed into the roaring water below and hit his head on a rock. After that fatal blow, everything was blacker than night. The body was found three days later after Peter sent a search party to look for the body after tracking the GPS signal in the phone sitting uselessly on top of the cliff where Derek had plummeted to his watery end.

~~~~~ Sheriff ~~~~

John read the letter that Derek handed him right before he left. He choked on a gut wrenching sob as he realized that he should have been there for his boy. 

Claudia has to hate him completely right now. He failed their baby and now he was gone for good. His Genim would never grow up or graduate from highschool. He would never have another birthday or open another Christmas gift. He wouldn't be able to do anything ever again. 

All he had wanted to do was protect Stiles from Scott's vindictive streak. He couldn't believe what had happened to his son's childhood friend. They used to be thick as thieves and now Scott went in rants whenever Stiles was mentioned. He wanted to keep his baby from being hurt, but only hurt him more in the end.

John sat in his son's room the rest of the night, drinking and crying over his dead son. He was hollow now. He had no family left. He had to bury his own child in the coming days. He wouldn't be the same ever again.

Three days after that infamous day, John received a call from Peter.

"Sheriff Stilinski speaking."

"What the fuck happened since I went to stay with Cora? Derek is dead! He killed himself. He sent a text saying he couldn't live without him. What happened?"

The sheriff stuttered, "D-derek ki-killed himself too?"

He heard Peter's voice break, "He jumped off of a cliff into the Pacific. What do you mean by 'too'?"

It was John's turn to try and keep from crying. All he managed was a choked out, "Stiles."

Peter cursed on the other line, "When?"

"Three days ago. He shot himself. Derek was the first one to find him."

"Do you have a funeral planned yet? I know Derek would've want to be buried next to Stiles and vise versa. W-we could hold a joint funeral."

"I have the date for next Wednesday. We can hold Derek's then too. Where will they've buried? I-I can't afford to give Stiles his own plot in a graveyard."

"I'll take care of it. I'll pay for both of the plots. I'm heading back to Beacon Hills tonight."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"And John? Don't drink yourself to death. Stiles wouldn't have wanted that."

"I know," John choked out before he ended the call. 

The next week passed in a fog of guilt and depression. The funeral was a solemn affair, even the skies were dark and grey while a gloomy fog filled the town. Half of the town showed up to mourn the tragic loss of the two young men. They were buried under a tall oak tree near both Claudia's and the Hale family graves. A few days after, Cora and Peter left for Europe without a glance back. The town held too many bitter memories for them. 

John went back to work. He tried to live life as best as he possibly could, but it was only a half life. Every day he would go to the cemetery and mourn the loss of his baby boy. He kept the healthy diet that Stiles wanted him to have, but that didn't help him stay alive. Two years later he was killed in a shootout - a bullet to the head - and buried next to his wife.

~~~~ Lydia ~~~~

Lydia was never fully right again after seeing visions of both Derek and Stiles kill themselves in the same day. Something inside her just snapped completely and she never recovered.

She suffered from horrible nightmares and psychotic episodes constantly. All she saw anymore was death, death, and more death. 

She was permanently institutionalized three months after the funeral after a terrifying and violent episode in a mall two towns over. In her fit, she injured two people and started to strangle another; all the while screaming “Why? Why did you do this? You’re going to die! NO!”

She escaped jail time because of Mr. Whittemore. The only catch was she was to remain institutionalized until a time where she was deemed “sane” or at least safe for herself and the others around her. Danny tried to help her get better, but it was no use. When it was time for him to go to college, he went to the other side of the country. He still called her at least once a month to see how she was doing, but there was never any real progress. Everytime she seemed close to being better, there would be another violent break down.

Sometimes some of the remaining pack go to see her, but it wasn't often at all. Maybe once or twice a year at the most. 

~~~~ Scott ~~~~

When John called him to tell him that Stiles killed himself, he was numb. That was the only real way to describe it. All of his conflicting emotions meshed together, fighting for dominance in his mind until it was all too much and it shut off. Almost like a white noise buzzing in his heart. He couldn't distinguish anything in the roar of feelings, leaving him numb.

He looked at the rest of the pack - having moved Lydia to her room to recover - with tears in his eyes. The alpha cleared his throat, "Guys... Stiles... He's dead. He killed himself." 

Saying the words out loud broke a damn inside of him; guilt washed over him as he realized that he was to blame. He was so caught up in his anger at the loss of Allison that he blamed his best friend and not the Nogitsune. He pushed Stiles to this. 

Scott had never been one to handle anything upsetting well. He turned to anger, like he did with Alison. The funeral was almost too much to handle. He had lost two people in fewer days. He yelled at Kira. He blamed her for this happening. He blamed her for the Nogitsune even existing in the small town. Scott eventually pushed Kira too far and she left the pack, Beacon Hills, and him. 

Scott was an Omega. Everyone had left. Everyone had abandoned the pack. He was the only one left and he lived the next 10 years of his life alone until he had finally become feral and Deaton had to kill the werewolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think. I wouldn't have continued this if it weren't for all the great feedback. Thanks!


End file.
